


DA Snippets - Consumed

by Niorah



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Fantasy, Femslash, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:48:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4586655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niorah/pseuds/Niorah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More of a short story than a snippet really... Before heading to Halamshiral, the Inquisitor reminisces about a few key events that have had a deep impact in her recent life. Rated E for femslash. Lady Trevelyan/Cassandra Pentaghast romance. All characters are property and copyright of EA and Bioware, I just celebrate them and I'm not making any money out of this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	DA Snippets - Consumed

Lady Trevelyan stared intently at her forearm. Thin green lines were crawling along the faint web of her own veins, reaching slowly but surely all the way up to her shoulder and chest by now, and making their way down her left side. She had started noticing this unpleasant development of the mark on her hand right from the very beginning. The words of Cassandra upon their first meeting echoed in her mind like a familiar song. "Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads, and it is killing you.”

She knew them to be true, she felt it, a slight hum under her skin, warm, flowing, ever present, never letting her forget that her life was not, and never would be, the same as… before.

She closed her fist, tightly, her short nails biting just a little into her palm, her other hand rolled down her sleeve to cover her arm. It did not matter that fabric or leather or metal covered her hand, the mark proved to be able to work regardless, but the extent of its spread could still be easily hidden from curious eyes by a simple shirt, thankfully.

The first one who got to know about this had been the Seeker. It hadn’t been the Herald’s choice either. It had just been an unfortunate accident, just a few weeks after they had set camp at Haven. Back then Lady Pentaghast was still treating the Inquisitor with a measure of suspicion, and very little regard for her privacy. She remembered it all as if it had happened that same day...

\-----

On that fateful afternoon, the warrior had felt perfectly entitled to enter her little room without announcing herself just as Lady Trevelyan was cleaning a shallow wound on her arm, half naked and behind an unlocked door.

It all happened very quickly. The sure voice of Cassandra starting to talk about the situation in the Fallow Mire as she was covering the few steps from the door to the table where she was standing. Her words were cut suddenly, her perfect lips falling open, her dark eyes going wide with surprise. Those few moments of stunned silence between them were feeling so heavy, and then came the lightness of a burden finally shrugged off after being kept secret for too long. Lady Trevelyan smiled faintly and just stood there, allowing the Seeker to take a good look at her. By then the mark had only had time to spread to under her elbow, but it was still an unexpected view.

Cassandra was at a loss. After staring for what felt like an eternity, she found enough of a breath to mumble an unsure: “I didn’t… I had no…”, her head lowered and her gaze fell to the floor. “I’m sorry…”

Then she turned and briskly walked out. 

She came back after a short while, carrying a small package in her hands. This time she knocked and waited for a muffled “Come in” from the other side before entering the small spartan private room of Lady Trevelyan.

She walked in and approached the Herald who was sitting on her bed. She stood in front of her and offered what she had brought.

The Inquisitor accepted it, with piqued curiosity. She unfolded the soft fabric to reveal a small, polished wooden box. She unscrewed it open and a strong but pleasant smell filled her nostrils. She turned a questioning look towards the Seeker.

“It’s a liniment that I use to help my muscles and skin after a strenuous day on the field.” Her eyes pierced Lady Trevelyan’s for a moment. “I know it won’t stop it, or even slow it down… but perhaps… you may find it soothing anyway.”

The Herald smiled as she dipped a finger in it and spread some of it casually on the back of her hand. “Thank you. It is a very kind thought, Lady Pentaghast. I will certainly use it.”

Cassandra lingered for a second longer. “Good. Let me know when you run out of it. I can easily make more.” And with that, she left.

\-----

From that day on, the Inquisitor had noticed the clear concern on Lady Pentaghast’s face every time they had found a fade rift that needed to be dealt with. At the edge of her field of vision all throughout the battle she could see the warrior keeping an eye on her, studying her face as she used her hand to close the rift after having defeated all the demons.

Every time she used the mark, it spread a little. And there were constantly new rifts that required her attention. Inch by inch, battle by battle, the green invader had taken possession of her entire arm first, and now her torso was being slowly covered by it too. She had taught herself to remain impassible against the pain that shot through her when she used it, but it was becoming more and more difficult by the day. She had no idea how long she could still fight before succumbing. In fact she didn’t even want to consider the possibility. Too much was at stake. The Seeker knew this, and they had a silent agreement to keep this from any and all other people, including the Counselors and the other members of the Herald’s so-called inner circle.

Lady Trevelyan knew, of course, that this was no secret she could keep forever. After the Seeker, Dorian and Vivienne were the next to find out. Now she was just wondering how long it would take for it to become common knowledge.

No matter, now that they were at Skyhold, no one could find out “by accident” like Cassandra had. Her apartments were at the top of a tower, she could hear anyone climbing up her stairs with plenty of warning, and she rarely left her door unlocked to begin with. She had given a spare key to Lady Pentaghast, as a matter of fact really, and the Seeker had been using it very sparingly, to her credit, at least up until their return from the Fade.

That had been an adventure of epic proportions. It had been hard on all of them. Vivienne was the only one that had come out of it seemingly unaffected, but the Inquisitor knew her better than that. She knew the Enchanter was fighting her own demons, and winning of course, but she knew it was a hard fight anyway, no matter how private or hidden Madame De Fer wanted to keep it from others. Dorian was still wrapping his mind around the events, and the consequences they might have, both on a short and a long term. His curiosity had made it easier for him to control his fear, and his inquisitive mind was racing through all that he had seen and lived through in that strange, dangerous place.

Then there was Cassandra.

Seeing the Divine, or a spirit who thought it was the Divine, or what was left of the Divine, or what the Divine had become, had left her very confused, very worried, and a bit shaken. She was of course trying to make sense of all of it, but it was proving to be a one step forward, two steps back kind of process.

One night soon after coming back from the Fade, the Herald, light sleeper that she was, had woken up to the sound of sure steps coming up her stairs. In the dark, she had reached for the dagger she always kept under her pillow and she had sat up against the head of her bed, ready to defend herself.

There had been a look of utter surprise on her face upon recognising the Seeker. She could recall it all so vividly in her memory…

\-----

Cassandra stopped at the top of the stairs, her silhouette stark against the moonlight coming in from the large windows. She noticed the defensive posture of the Inquisitor right away, even through the shadows. Her voice was uncharacteristically soft.

“I did not mean to wake you.”

She took a few steps and stood at the feet of the bed. “I’m not even sure why I came here. Perhaps it was a mistake. I apologise. I will go now.” She turned and started back towards the stairs.

But they both knew it wasn’t a mistake at all. They were two lost, wounded souls, for different reasons, and somehow they recognised in each other a balm, a crutch, a small certainty in the face of all the chaos surrounding them and the seemingly unbeatable odds against them.

“Stay.”

The Seeker stopped, her shoulders slumped a bit, almost ready to give up on her decision to leave.

“Please.”

That was the last nail in the coffin of her resolve. Nevertheless she put up one last line of defense. “I really do not know why I thought it would be a good idea to come here so late in the night. I… I couldn’t sleep. I have so much in my mind. Too much. I thought… I imagined you might be in the same situation. I shouldn’t have, it was an egocentric wish, an egotistical presumption.”

A bitter smile opened on the Inquisitor’s face. “I haven’t been able to sleep soundly in a long while now. Our trip to the Fade has not helped in the least. So you see, you were not far from the truth.” There was a short pause, then her voice turned almost to a plea. “Please turn around, I’d rather have a conversation with your face than your back.”

It took Lady Pentaghast a couple of seconds to make up her mind. Then she exhaled as if she had held her breath for a century. She turned around and she went to sit on the side of the bed.

The Herald thought that the Seeker looked naked without her usual armour on. She was wearing a light shirt over her well worn leather pants, and it made her seem almost vulnerable. Almost. Her hand came up to lay gently on the warrior’s shoulder in the most natural gesture and her voice was deep and warm. “I’m ready to listen if you are willing to talk, Cassandra. You don’t need to stand strong all the time. Let me take some of the burden off your back.”

A short, sarcastic snort erupted from the warrior’s lips. “Ha. As if you were not carrying the heaviest burden of us all already.”

They exchanged a long glance before she went on. “I never forget that you are paying the highest price, for all of us.” She turned to better face Lady Trevelyan, her knee sliding on the sheets to a more comfortable position. Her hands caught the Inquisitor’s and she stared intently at the faintly glowing mark on her palm. “I was right, wasn’t I? You –are- dying. It might be a slow process, but it is happening nonetheless.”

The Herald smiled and squeezed Cassandra’s hands tenderly. “We all have to die.”

The Seeker did not find it amusing. She shook her head. “Not like this. This is unfair.”

“Who’s to say what is fair or unfair? Maybe this is exactly how things were supposed to go. I'm not a rogue just because of how I fight... I’ve lived a life doing what I wanted, maybe this is my chance to do something for others instead. My redemption… or my penance.”

A stubborn frown was corrugating the warrior’s expression. “It does not mean I like it, or that I agree with it. Or that I accept it. You work harder than anyone, with very little regard for yourself. Every time a new problem surfaces you never say ‘No’, you never say ‘I can’t’, you’re always rolling up your sleeves and taking care of it. And this is your reward? I –cannot- accept it.”

The Inquisitor’s smile turned sweet as their eyes met again. “Well, I’ll be. That is a far cry from you wanting to kill me for blowing up the entire Conclave…”

For a moment, Cassandra allowed a light mood to wash over their exchange as she grinned her reply. “You will never let me live that down, will you?”

They chuckled softly for a second, before Lady Trevelyan cut to the chase, her smile fading and her face turning serious. “This is not why you came here tonight. There is something you need to get off your chest, and it must be incredibly heavy for you to show up unannounced and at this ungodly hour. So go on. I’m here, I’m listening.”

The swift shadow of a doubt ran across the Seeker’s eyes as she searched the Herald’s face for a long moment. Then she nodded, accepting her offer.

Out of her mouth, out of her very soul, she poured all the doubts, all the uncertainty, all that she could not understand, all that she questioned. A river of words that carried so much suffering, so much struggling. All night they talked. The sky outside turned livid, then pink, and the light of dawn caught them still deep in conversation.

\-----

After that night, others had followed, when Cassandra had made her way up those stairs, to the Inquisitor’s chambers. Somehow their friendship had grown even stronger, as had their mutual respect. But something even greater had blossomed in the Herald’s heart. True, she had been attracted to Cassandra from very early on, and how could she not, the Seeker was a formidable woman, inside and out. As time had gone by, and they had had the chance to become more familiar with each other, the Inquisitor had found herself head over heels: she had fallen in love, uncontrollably, truly, madly, unquestionably in love. Alas, there had never seemed to be the right time to confess, and even when there had been, Lady Trevelyan had found herself lacking the courage, fearing the outcome, and downright reticent. Some rogue she had proven to be.

And then they had gone to the Hissing Wastes. It was so harsh and beautiful out there. They could only move around at night because the temperatures during the day were impossible to bear, but as they found out, the desert at night was truly breathtaking. And just as deadly. 

The cool night breeze blew gently in the Herald's face as she paced slowly to the other side of the balcony attached to her quarters, while memories came rushing back to her, almost violently...

\-----

There was another rift. Or she hadn't been able to close the first one properly. Or it was an anomaly they hadn't encountered before. Whatever it was, a green scar opened in the sky exactly above their heads as soon as the first was closing down with its typical small explosion in mid air. All around them the demons' spawning points were getting brighter by the second. The Herald's grip closed tighter around her daggers and she crouched again, ready for another battle even though her entire body was telling her that she did not have the energy for it.

Dorian's staff glowed menacingly, and Vivienne immediately surrounded them with a barrier.

Cassandra was standing quite a few paces away, her eyes darting around, choosing her first target as she let an angry comment escape her pursed lips. "Another...? How? Why? Damned things! Let them come!"

As if answering her, two Rage Demons and a number of Wraiths sprouted into existence.

The party rained damage on them in every possible way, taking care of the floating spirits first, then concentrating on the bigger threats. As she was jumping in and out of stealth to deal the most ferocious wounds possible, the Inquisitor could feel herself getting too tired, too heavy. Her blades were slicing and cutting, she was fast as a blur, but she could not maintain this rhythm much longer. As the first wave dissipated and they were standing still for a few seconds, waiting for the next enemies to appear, her armour started feeling too tight, she felt she couldn't breathe, her left arm was pulsating mercilessly, her mouth was dry. 

Three enormous Pride Demons materialised. The air crackled as they unleashed their electrical attacks. One of them managed to catch her unaware and hit her full on with his energised whip. She fell face first in the sand. In the blink of an eye, Cassandra was next to her, the warrior's shield taking the brunt of the second attack. Vivienne's Spirit Blade slashed the giant's leg from behind, catching his attention long enough for the Herald to get back on her feet. 

The look on the Seeker's face was of deep concern. She asked quickly under her breath: "Are you all right? Can you make it?"

Her reply was less than encouraging, but stubborn as ever. "I have to." She gritted her teeth and lunged into battle again.

Dorian's magic was permeating the air with a purple glow that interwove with the magic released by the huge demons, Vivienne was shifting in and out of her Fade Cloak, causing the most amount of damage in fluid, elegant motions, in a deadly dance of blinding strikes, Cassandra managed to never be more than a few paces away from the Inquisitor at all times, keeping a watchful eye on her just in case.

After a gruesome battle that seemed to never end, as the last demon trembled and disintegrated back into the rift, the Herald lifted her hand to close it. A bright ribbon of green energy connected her to the small hole in the dark sky. She felt the usual pain climbing slowly from her palm upwards, she steeled herself as was her custom. Then everything took a turn for the worse. The entire world seemed to slow down, every noise, every movement. In an instant, she was painfully aware of every tiny detail: small beads of sweat that were trickling down her forehead suddenly weighed too much, the air was sticky and still, she could see every string of light in the magic flux between her and the closing rift before it faded and disappeared in a bang. A stench of rotten flesh filled her brain, the stars were too bright, they were blinding her, the pain soared and turned into a crushing wave, her right hand grabbed her left wrist and agony twisted her face, her legs gave in, she fell on one knee, an insect flew by close to her head and to her ears it felt like a thunder just exploded and rumbled away. Her other knee hit the sand, her back arched backwards against her will and she felt an uncontrollable heat surging from her skin, all along her arm, her shoulder and her chest. A green light seeped through her armour, pulverising metal, leather, fabric, leaving her skin exposed and glowing eerily in the cold night. Just as suddenly as it had begun, it ended. She drew a deep breath, as if breaking through the surface of a muddy swamp, then kept breathing heavily and quickly, her upper body snapping forward, her fingers burying themselves in the warm sand to keep her from falling any further.

Dorian and Vivienne were standing dumbfounded, their mouths gaping, taking in the view of the extent of the mark on the Herald's body, the shock nailing them to the ground.

The Seeker ran the short distance between them in quick steps, a heartfelt cry escaping her mouth. "Inquisitor!" Her arms immediately offered to support her weak body. Cassandra slowly helped her up, her dark eyes never leaving her face, her voice trying to soothe and calm Lady Trevelyan, bringing her back to the here and now. "Breathe, slowly, slowly. It's all right, you're all right, it's over now. Breathe. Just breathe. You can do it. Calm down. I'm here. I'm here." She helped her sit down on a rock nearby and took off her own leather vest to cover the Inquisitor. Her chainmail shone under the moonlight as she squatted down to look the Herald in the eye. She noticed her pupils were fixed on a faraway point of nothingness. Her fingers lightly caressed her cheek and moved her face to focus on hers. She spoke slowly, as soon as she noticed she finally had Lady Trevelyan's attention. "Talk to me. What happened?"

As if waking up from a nightmare, the Inquisitor's hand came up to clutch her chest where the mark had so violently spread just now. A low moan made its way from deep inside her, the pain and stupor almost tangible. She took a few moments before being able to find her voice to reply. She was vaguely aware of the presence of Dorian and Vivienne, who were beginning to put the pieces together, and did not seem happy at all about the conclusion they were both coming to.

"I don't know." She slowly shook her head. "I don't know."

Cassandra forced her to keep eye contact. "It doesn't matter now. All that matters is that you are alive and safe. Whatever that was, it's gone." Her strong hands squeezed the Inquisitor's shoulders gently, grounding her, giving her a much needed anchor of reality to hold on to.

Vivienne finally spoke, and there was a definite note of compassion and worry in her no-nonsense voice. "How long has this been going on? Why weren't the rest of us informed?"

Dorian wasn't far behind. "Yes, what she said. And then some. Even if words fail me right now."

The Seeker's gaze shifted away from Lady Trevelyan and drilled through theirs in quick succession. "No one, let me repeat, -no one- must know. If word got out that the Herald was struggling, or even worse, falling, to the mark she carries, we don't know what kind of damage that could do to the hope of the people, to our cause of bringing order back to Thedas, or to the Inquisition at large. We cannot afford to gamble on this. And if Corypheus came to know about this in any way... I shudder to think of the consequences. The Inquisitor and I agreed on keeping this a secret since the beginning. I expect you both to respect that decision." Her tone did not leave any room for debate.

Practical being that she was, Madame De Fer approached the Herald and started examining her arm meticulously. "I understand, and I utterly agree. Now let me take a look, maybe we can work together to make this more bearable for our poor friend. You should have at least considered that, Cassandra. Dorian, come and take a look as well, I could use your opinion on this."

The young mage was quick to join her, an expression of deep sorrow and empathy in his sweet eyes. "I will try to research all I can about any possible way to help. As discreetly as possible, of course. I know this is unheard of and unique and there is possibly nothing of real use anywhere, but maybe I can find some way to diminish the pain, at the very least."

Her eyes still vacuous, her soul still traumatised, her mind still confused, Lady Trevelyan turned to Cassandra for reassurance, as if it was the most natural thing to do. The Seeker noticed and smiled at her, holding her other hand tightly.

\-----

The stars were beginning to fade, the Herald mimicked the gesture of clutching her chest from that night, some time ago. Her head lowered and her eyes closed, she could still feel the way she had felt on that dreadful occasion. Sometimes while she was closing this or that rift these days, it felt again as if the world was slowing down, and more often than not she had to concentrate as hard as possible to avoid being taken by a form of panic the likes of which she had never known before. It was hard, it was exhausting. At this point she was going on by sheer willpower. She knew she was the only real hope to see things go back to normal. The responsibility was crushing on the best of days, but she had no intention of giving up. She would fight to her last breath if necessary. She let her eyes roam and take in the first faint light glimmering on the snow in the distance. Her mind went back to that night, the night in which so many things had changed...

\-----

Cassandra hastily opened the flaps to the Herald's private tent and strode in. Lady Trevelyan was lying on a thin mattress, a simple pillow under her head, the warm flame of a couple of candles supplying enough light for her to read. She desperately needed the distraction in the wake of going through such a trauma, after all.

They had come back to camp immediately, the Seeker had walked her to her tent and had made sure she was all right before taking her leave, almost abruptly. Lady Trevelyan had slowly undressed, making sure to fold the leathers Cassandra had given her to cover herself and putting them down on a short stool, away from sand and dust. She had freshened up as best she could, and had allowed her tired, bruised body to lie down. She had tried to sleep, but alas, her mind had been racing to all the wrong places. So she had settled for reading.

Now Lady Pentaghast, free of her armour, shield and weapon, was towering over her, not saying a word, arms crossed on her chest, her eyes fixed on hers.

The Herald broke the silence. "Are you checking up on me? That's very kind, but there's no need. I will be all right. Or so I think. I just need some rest for my poor old bones." She sat up, not without effort. "I'm sorry I gave you all such a scare earlier. I honestly don't know what was going on, but I can make an educated guess. I believe it was the strain of having to shut two rifts in a row, the second one much more powerful than the first, that triggered such a sudden and aggressive spread of the mark. So if I am careful not to engage in a similar trick in the future I should be safe." Her eyes travelled to the stool in the corner of her tent. "Oh. Are you here for your leathers? I put them over there, I hope I haven't ruined them or anything."

Without saying a word, Cassandra sat on the mattress in front of the Herald and gazed deeply into her eyes. She finally spoke, in a low voice, and it felt like the calm before the storm. "No. I don't care about the leathers, you can have them. I care about you."

The Inquisitor smiled. "I know. And I thank you, but as I said, it's not necessary for you to be so worried. Please, go get some rest. Unless you need to talk. You know I'm always here for you if you need to talk, at any given time."

Cassandra didn't return the smile, in fact, her expression was grim, on the verge of sour. Then the storm finally hit. "Stop being so dismissive! This is no light matter!" Her voice was almost trembling.

Lady Trevelyan visibly flinched at the wave of rage carried by the Seeker's words. She was taken aback, and immediately realised there was more to come. She kept silent and held Cassandra's gaze.

The warrior burst. "You gave us a scare? The understatement of our age! I couldn't understand what was happening, everything was so sudden, you should have seen your face, your entire body... I wasn't scared. Oh no. I was petrified! All I could do in order not to panic was to concentrate on helping you, somehow, in any way, even if I had no idea what to do! I felt powerless, I was watching you, your eyes were so empty, so faraway... and that green glow, all over your skin, relentless, sucking your very life... I could see it, I could feel it..."

The Herald noticed that Cassandra's eyes were filling with tears, whether of rage, frustration, fear, or something else entirely, she did not know. She knew better than to interrupt her, but she just couldn't help her hand cupping the Seeker's face in a sweet, consoling caress. All she wanted was to take that anger away, it hurt her to see Lady Pentaghast hurting.

The warrior jerked slightly, as if the touch was completely unexpected. It was enough to make her snap out of her furor. Their eyes locked as she went on, her voice now dropping to little more than a whisper. "I... I thought I had finally lost you. I thought 'This is it. Now she dies.' And in that moment I realised how much you mean to me. And all I could think was 'Maker, no. Please don't take her from me.' I wasn't thinking of Thedas, I wasn't thinking of Corypheus, everything just... ceased to exist. Unimportant. All of it. And the pain that was cracking my heart... I had never felt such pain before."

Lady Trevelyan's eyes widened. She herself had been aware of her own feelings for Cassandra for a long while, but she had never acted upon them, too afraid of a possible rejection, choosing to nurture their friendship instead. Now this... this changed everything. There were too many words she wanted to say all at once, and in the stampede only one made it out of her lips.

"Cassandra..."

The Seeker shied away from her hand and motioned to get up. "I said too much. I know. I apologise, but I wanted to be honest with you. I owe you that much."

The Herald's hand closed around her elbow and stopped her, she used all that was left of her strength to drag Lady Pentaghast back down and into her open arms. Her embrace was immediately reciprocated. As their bodies fit onto each other naturally, her lips found the Seeker's ear and murmured into it. "Don't you dare leave now."

Their faces shifted and they looked into each other's eyes deeply for a second, then the Inquisitor allowed her soul to speak, unashamedly. "I love you, Cassandra."

The Seeker felt lost for a moment, uncertain whether to give in to her heart's desire, or to turn tail and run from this overwhelming feeling. As she drank in the fire burning in the Herald's eyes, she found it easier than expected to make up her mind, as terrifying as it was. Words flowed freely, unbridled. "And I love you."

She lowered her head, hesitantly, to make their lips meet in a soft, lingering kiss. Her eyes closed. Her head spun.

The Inquisitor had a hard time believing this was happening. She had dreamt and fantasised about it for so long, now she wasn't sure if this was real at all. But as soon as she felt the Seeker's lips covering her own, she knew. They were like warm silk, and it was like they were made to fit together. She felt like she was falling. But she was in Cassandra's arms, so she didn't care.

Slowly, their lips opened, never fully separating, their breath mixed, their tongues touched, timidly at first, then more insistently, caressing each other slowly, deliberately, lightly pushing against each other, melding, dancing. The Herald's fingers buried in Cassandra's short hair, holding the back of her head in a gentle grip, almost afraid to let go.  
The kiss slowed down and they finally broke it, both lightly gasping for air, a rosy colour rising to their cheeks. The Seeker's forehead leaned softly on the Inquisitor's as their eyes delved into each other's souls. 

A light breeze was ruffling the tent's walls and the calls of the desert's nocturnal animals were coming and going in the distance. Otherwise, the silence felt like a safe nest to both of them. 

Cassandra's voice sounded genuinely unsure. "I... I've never done this... with a woman..."

Lady Trevelyan moved to make the tips of their noses stroke delicately for a second, a tender smile curled her lips. "Well, since you are a woman, you can make a safe bet that what gives pleasure to you, will also give pleasure to me... and if that's not the case, I'll just let you know..."

The Seeker smirked. "Ever so generous, Your Worship."

The light sarcastic tone was not lost to the Herald's ears. Her rogue spirit found a way to the surface. She applied some clever leverage and flipped them over, landing on top of Lady Pentaghast in an almost feline move. Her voice was smooth as velvet. "Why don't I give you some ideas then...?"

They chuckled, and whatever was waiting for them outside the tent, their responsibilities, the worries, the fights, it was all forgotten. They got lost in each other so easily, so naturally.

For all her bravado and smart remarks, the Inquisitor started fumbling with trembling hands and a trembling heart, her fingers struggled to undo the laces of Cassandra’s simple shirt. The warrior’s keen eyes noticed right away. Her strong hands wrapped around the Herald’s and gently squeezed them, getting her attention. Their eyes locked on each other, the Seeker’s voice came out with a gentleness that was as rare as it was precious. “Allow me.” Her smile was warmer than a Spring afternoon, it melted what little pride was left in the Inquisitor. As Cassandra’s agile fingers opened the knots, the rogue leaned in to kiss every inch of skin that was revealed to her. Her hands tugged the Seeker's shirt out of her leather pants, and she pulled it off, over her head, in one easy motion. She remained speechless, admiring the warrior's muscular body finally revealed to her. She had a hard time containing a gasp of delight. She swallowed, hard, and wasn't even aware of her mouth hanging open after that.

Cassandra felt deeply self-conscious for a moment, and fought the instinct to cover herself, then she noticed the look of appreciation in the Herald's eyes and relaxed, she found herself more flattered by it than she had expected. She had never thought of her body as the object of anyone's desire, to her it was merely a tool, an instrument, nothing more. But now... she could see the admiration pasted right on Lady Trevelyan's face, it was unmistakable, even to someone who was not used to noticing these things like she was. She felt silly for liking it, for the gratification it brought to her. 

Then the Inquisitor spoke, and it didn't matter anymore. "You are beautiful."

It was all the Herald could muster right now. Her eyes roamed and paused on every scar, every crevice, every curve, every line of every muscle. She was scared to raise her hands to touch that stunning body. 

The Seeker took one of the rogue’s hands and put it on her heart, her reply low and sincere. "Thank you... for telling me..."

They exchanged a shy smile. Then Lady Trevelyan let her hands glide, first on Cassandra's lean arms, then her athletic chest, then down to her firm abdomen, reveling in the slightly harsh texture of her scars as her fingertips traced every one of them, strangely enjoying the stark contrast with her otherwise incredibly soft skin. She lowered her head, but as the Seeker motioned to meet her lips she held back. She put her fingers on the warrior's strong jaw and moved her face to the side. She proceeded to slowly brush her lips against her neck, nibbling her with short, sharp bites, soothed by warm, wet kisses. Her hands covered the Seeker's breasts, her thumbs grazed on her dark nipples, skillfully turning them into hard knots of pleasure.

Cassandra inhaled sharply at the touch, her body responding instantly, her back arching into the Herald's palms in an involuntary move, her arms coming around the rogue's back, holding her tight, their slender legs entwining spontaneously. 

The Inquisitor's thigh pressed up between the Seeker's legs, and she felt the warrior's hips eagerly meeting her, grinding against her, a loud moan escaping Cassandra's throat. She stopped everything she was doing and immediately brought a hand up to cover and close the Seeker's mouth. She stood perfectly still for a few seconds, trying to understand if anyone had heard. Their eyes locked, she whispered softly. "Ssshhh..." She felt a smile opening on Cassandra's lips under her hand and she grinned naughtily. "We don't want the whole camp to know, do we...? Maybe this is not such a great idea..."

The warrior wriggled free of the restraint and defiantly replied. "You think of what -you- need to do, and I will take care of what -I- need to do, Your Worship..." Her lips captured the Herald's in a breathless kiss, and in the space of a second their desire took over.

Their hands quickly got rid of their remaining clothes, then they were naked, body and soul. 

Lady Trevelyan paused, unsure whether the presence of her mark would be unsettling for Cassandra, if she would consider it ugly, or dangerous... repulsive, even. 

Sensing the uneasy thoughts running wild in the rogue's mind, the Seeker took a moment to plant a trail of light kisses up her left arm and on her shoulder, then she placed her hand on her chest, where the mark had just spread earlier that night. Looking intently into her eyes, her voice sounded unwavering and reassuring. "Let me requite your compliment. You are beautiful."

As if a terrible weight had been lifted from her, the Herald exhaled and buried her face in the Seeker's neck, she breathed quickly. "I thought..."

Cassandra stopped her abruptly. "No more thinking. Not tonight."

They kissed again as their bodies settled around one another, Cassandra's legs opened readily to welcome the sweet weight of the Herald, her hands leisurely caressing the rogue's lean back, her skin humming in pleasure as she felt the heat building up inside her. 

The Herald begrudgingly separated from the Seeker's delicious lips and she started kissing her way down her body, taking her time, devoting her attention in particular to each of her nipples, sucking on them, carefully biting them, pulling them gently beyond her lips and flicking them with the tip of her tongue. She could feel Cassandra's body react to it all, her breaths becoming deeper, harsher, for a second she wondered if the warrior would indeed be able to muffle her own noises, then she realised that in the end, she didn't really care if the entire continent heard them. She shifted her body, slowly sliding down, and made herself comfortable between the Seeker's thighs. She kissed their very sensitive inner side, she let her tongue out and licked her way down to Cassandra's core in one long swipe, stopping a mere inch from her goal. Her hands grabbed the warrior's hips to hold her down, she could smell just how aroused she was, a glistening moisture was inviting her to savour Lady Pentaghast like the finest food.

And she did just that. Her mouth closed on the Seeker's lips, and she started kissing her slowly, she dipped the tip of her tongue inside her, only to retreat and skim up to her most sensitive spot, over and over again, in meticulous, agonizingly slow movements, loving the texture and softness of every nook, every crevice, enjoying the sweet and sour taste of the warrior's excitement.

Cassandra's head was spinning out of control. She didn't expect the sensations to take such a strong hold of her. As she felt the first touch of the Herald's tongue, her arm jolted and she punched the mattress, she stifled a moan, but only by tapping into her every reserve of self-control, her hand fumbled around, she grabbed her discarded leather belt and brought it to her mouth, biting into it with all her might. Not a second too soon. Lady Trevelyan's tongue was pushing inside of her and she thought she would lose it, she inhaled as deeply as she could, hoping the air would clear her head, but to no avail. Her neck bent back, she wanted to shift her lower body, to take some of the delicious pressure away, but she had underestimated the strength of the rogue's hands. The Inquisitor was pinning her down with relative ease, and as she was getting more and more raptured by her own overstimulated senses, she was having a harder time controlling her body. Every time she felt the Herald's tongue lick and pause on the fiery bud that had become the center of her universe, an electric vibe shot up her spine and into her brain, she had goose bumps all over, it was hard to breathe. Something was building up like a powerful tide inside of her, something fierce and wild, she couldn't take it anymore, she did not want to be in control anymore. And all it took was one more nudge. As the rogue's tongue rubbed against her avidly, she felt all the muscles in her body tense, a light burst behind her closed eyelids, her hips thrust up, a muffled grunt erupted between her grinding teeth and her inner walls clenched in the most exquisite spasms, pulsating in a blissful frenzy.

It was over all too soon. The Seeker's body relaxed on the mattress, her chest heaving, a thin layer of sweat covering her skin, her head still light, she was panting as she felt the belt sliding out from between her teeth and falling on the mattress next to her. She forced her eyes to open and looked down.

The Herald's chin was shiny with wetness, a smug smile on her androgynous face, she was resting her cheek just below Cassandra's navel, looking up at her. Her eyes were dark with passion and sparkling with emotion.

The Seeker’s hands cupped her face and tugged at her, silently inviting her to climb back up, an invitation that the Herald was more than happy to oblige.

The Inquisitor moved quickly, her arms sustaining most of her weight and her knees moving lithely to the sides of Cassandra’s hips, straddling her. She felt the warrior’s hands grip the back of her neck, pulling her down and into a slow, hot kiss.

Lady Pentaghast could taste herself on the rogue’s tongue and lips, and she found it incredibly erotic. Their kiss became more hungry, more urgent, in a matter of seconds.

The Herald was still riding the wave of arousal that Cassandra’s intense orgasm had stirred inside of her, her own desire taking over, she couldn’t stop her hips pushing down against the Seeker’s in a wanton motion. She broke the kiss and fixed her stare on the warrior, panting lightly, her heart hammering in her chest. She moved to seize Cassandra’s right wrist, and she slowly guided her down, between her legs. As Lady Pentaghast’s hand covered her sex, she quivered and bit her lower lip, her dark eyes never faltering, burning into the warrior’s eyes without restraint.

Cassandra’s breath caught in her throat and she found herself swallowed by the intensity of the moment. Her fingers moved more surely than she would have imagined, following the trail of warm wetness to its source. It was the most unpredictable, innate instinct that was driving her every move. She didn’t need to think, didn’t need to reason, didn’t need to be told what to do. Her fingertips found a soft entrance and she pushed inside, slowly but strongly. Hot, sleek walls surrounded her, almost pulling her in more deeply. For a second, she saw stars and her head was dizzy, she wanted to close her eyes to better feel what her hand was feeling, but she forced them to stay open, not wanting to miss seeing all the emotions passing on the Herald’s face.

As she felt Cassandra’s fingers thrusting into her, the Inquisitor was sure she was going to lose her balance, the sensation rushing to her head, her arms going weak, she felt herself stretched and filled, her inner muscles reacting immediately, contracting demandingly. Her hips moved to meet the Seeker’s hand, the friction inside of her so tantalising, she had to exert herself to refrain from moving faster. Against the will of her every atom, she settled on a slow, purposeful rhythm, delighting in the pressure that the strong heel of the warrior’s hand was applying to her yearning bundle of nerves every time she pushed down. It was maddening, in the most exquisite way. Her eyes couldn’t, wouldn’t look away from Cassandra’s, and what she saw in them, the passion, the love, the desire, the vulnerability, it was all so fierce, so palpable, so real, she knew it wouldn’t take long for her to give in to her body’s greed. Her moves were becoming increasingly more difficult to control. She let go. Her hips drove frantically into the warrior’s hand, her breath was coming faster, her heart was beating wildly, her entire body felt like it was feverish. Unwelcome images of what had happened earlier, on the battlefield, invaded her mind, out of nowhere. She felt her left arm burning, she closed her eyes and was about to give in to pure panic, then, as if she were able to read her mind, Cassandra’s voice came through, warm, calm, and absolutely inescapable. “Don’t let it win. Don’t let it take you away. Your place is here. With me. Now.” She snapped back into the reality of the moment, her body’s brash sensations took over immediately, she gasped violently as her inner walls clasped around the Seeker’s fingers, she joined her in a crushing kiss, moaning her release against the warrior’s mouth, over and over again. 

As everything slowed down she felt Cassandra’s fingers carefully sliding out of her, she was suddenly awash in the realisation of what had just happened, and she was overwhelmed by how easy, and how perfect, it was to feel safe, here and now. She allowed her body to relax, she stretched out her legs and lowered herself into Lady Pentaghast’s open, inviting arms, she hid her face in the crook of her neck and tears flowed freely out of her tired eyes.

Cassandra smiled and tightened her embrace. There was no need for words now.

\-----

This had happened a while ago. Now things were even more complicated, the world was even more in shambles. But there were these few precious moments of peace, here and there, wherever and whenever the Herald could seize them. This was one of them, and she had gladly spent it reminiscing. She leaned with her forearms on the parapet of the balcony, squinting lightly against the rays of the rising sun, drinking in the marvelous view of the mountains surrounding Skyhold. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, then she released it slowly, watching the faint cloud of warmth that left her lips quickly dissipating in the frosty morning air. Her fingertips wandered along the leather belt she was wearing, until they found a curved row of small indentations. She smiled. The Seeker had presented her the belt from that night as a gift, not long after they had been back from the Hissing Wastes. It was a perfect reminder of the most important thing that she was fighting for, a chance at happiness with the woman she loved. Not that she –needed- a reminder, but it was a pleasant thing to have. Not to mention the slightly juvenile chuckles it always brought to her, thinking back at how difficult it must have been for the warrior to be as quiet as possible in the throes of passion…

She turned and walked inside, she needed to get ready for what she could foresee was going to be yet another uphill battle. They were to travel to the Winter Palace today. According to the plan, she was to save Empress Celene from a potential assassination attempt. 

She stopped just a few steps from her bed and took a moment to appreciate the beauty of Cassandra's face. The Seeker was still asleep, her perfect lips slightly open and a spent but peaceful expression was gracing her relaxed features. A smile opened on the Inquisitor's face. It did not matter how long she still had to live, how hard she still had to fight. All that mattered was in front of her right now.


End file.
